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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26473852">Copy &amp; Paste</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoomNightAt12/pseuds/DoomNightAt12'>DoomNightAt12</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red vs. Blue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - The AI are clones, Bad times happen, Gen, Major Character Injury, Suicide Attempt, The Freelancers are their caretakers, major character death but they get better</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:27:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26473852</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoomNightAt12/pseuds/DoomNightAt12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When he’d first signed up to the program, Washington had taken it as an extension of his military career and dedicated himself to the training as best he could. But in the recent efforts by the Director, the agents found themselves assigned as glorified babysitters. ‘Caretakers’ North would remind them.</p>
<p>Oh how things change.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Copy &amp; Paste</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m still surprised they chose me.”</p>
<p>“Really Wash? Think about it, between you or South, who are they gonna trust a kid to?”</p>
<p>South Dakota didn’t hold her punch.</p>
<p>“OW! Sorry sorry! …but seriously-”</p>
<p>“Best not to push your luck York.” North laughed, and the other three joined in.</p>
<p>Washington glanced over his data pad again, trying to commit his assignment start date to memory. When he’d first signed up to the program, he’d taken it as an extension of his military career and dedicated himself to the training as best he could (<em>Squads second worst fighter was not a title he enjoyed</em>) but in the recent efforts by the Director, the agents found themselves assigned as glorified babysitters.</p>
<p><em>‘Caretakers’</em> North would remind them, though the way he talked about Theta made him sound like a proud father. York talked up his own ward Delta, but apparently the boy was leagues ahead in IQ compared to the infiltration specialist.</p>
<p>Five other agents were paired with children as well, each with their unique skills and personalities, despite them all referring to each other as siblings and looking quite identical despite any age differences. No one knew the what or why behind the Directors choice in project, but it wasn’t their place to ask. They simply had to guide them through whatever the Director asked.</p>
<p>And now Washington has been given his assignment, the latest child Epsilon. It had been between him and South for the next assignment, and he’d been unsure they’d made the right choice. North just offered his signature warm smile.</p>
<p>“Listen, you’ll do fine. Just be yourself. Everyone else gets along with you.”</p>
<p>“Don’t mix me in with that count, I’m rooting for you to fail now.”</p>
<p>South shoved him, and while it was playful, there was a hint of competition in her eyes.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Agent Washington, Epsilon. Epsilon, this is your new caretaker.”</p>
<p>Wash crouched, trying to meet the boy’s eyes. Epsilon had a mess of black hair and pale skin, almost identical to how his friends had described the other children, however he had bright blue eyes rather than Delta’s green or Sigmas orange. The boy stood withdrawn, only glancing up to look at Wash when he moved or when the doctor spoke.</p>
<p>“It’s nice to meet you Epsilon.”</p>
<p>Wash offered a hand in greeting, but the boy only shifted behind the doctor, who promptly shoved him forward in return. Finding no other shelter, Epsilon shuffled forward and put his hand in Washington’s, finally meeting his look.</p>
<p>Epsilon’s gaze was piecing, and it un-nerved Wash to no end.</p>
<p>It didn’t feel like the boy was looking at him, more that he was being looked <em>in to.</em> There was too much knowing swirling in his eyes, and Wash had to break away first. He stood to thank the doctor for his time, but he could still feel Epsilon staring.</p>
<p>“Your daily schedule will be uploaded to your data pad. Please attend appointments with punctuality.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>As Washington watched over Epsilon, he really felt more and more like a babysitter.</p>
<p>Their schedule mostly involved a day of tests. He’d meet Epsilon at his private room, then walk him to one of the labs to take a series of written tests. Then there’d be verbal assessments, before they would move to a gymnasium for physical tasks. They’d do lunch somewhere between and have two 15 minutes breaks that mostly got eaten up by walking from one lab to another.</p>
<p>All the while, Wash would stand and watch.</p>
<p>All Agents were all trained in multiple forms of combat, and they’d equipped all caretakers with a handgun on their thigh, and a knife on their belt. But they never left the facility grounds, and they didn’t seem to be teaching Epsilon anything serious. It all seemed a bit over the top. Though it wasn’t his job to question it however, and the Director had his reasons. Wash tried to reason that he should be grateful for not being in the front line.</p>
<p>It didn’t really work.</p>
<p>The more he felt like a babysitter, the more he got to know Epsilon, the more he worried for the boy. He always seemed to be on edge, tensing whenever someone passed them in the hall, glancing around rooms when they were the only ones inside. Some mornings when Wash would come to his room, he looked like he hadn’t slept at all, and a quick glance inside the small room would show more mess than a typical child could make. Something was troubling Epsilon, but Wash felt he couldn’t ask.</p>
<p>Watching Epsilon check the recreation room door yet again, Wash sighed and put down his book.</p>
<p>“Hey, come over here. Sit down.”</p>
<p>Wash patted his thigh, inviting the boy to sit with him. It was growing clear that the children this place worked with were not treated as a child would normally be, and physical contact was something they lacked. Wash had grown up with his sisters constant fussing, so maybe the boy could benefit from some fussing himself.</p>
<p>Epsilon tilted his head curiously and raised a brow, silently asking ‘<em>seriously?’</em>.</p>
<p>But after a few moments of shuffling on the spot, Epsilon wandered over, before tentively lowering himself into Wash’s crossed legs. He shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable, turning to look up at his caretaker.</p>
<p>“See? We can just sit together.”</p>
<p>He reached back for his book and held it out in front of him, setting it at just enough of an angle that Epsilon could read it too. The boy sat rigidly for a few minutes, before his posture finally relaxed, and he leaned back against Wash’s chest. It was a small victory, but one Wash savoured as the feeling of another body warmed him. He turned the page, but he wasn’t exactly reading anymore. His thoughts wouldn’t stop drifting back to what was making Epsilon so high-strung. Were the other children similar in temperament? Did they suffer the same paranoia? He could always ask the others, but there was a level confidentiality that they had to uphold. The children were not to talk to each other, but for what reason? They knew of each other, and considered each other siblings, so why the segregation?</p>
<p>Washington was brought back by a ‘click’, which he found the source of when he looked down. Epsilon was holding his gun.</p>
<p>He held his breath, watching as the boy turned it over in his hand. His instinct as an adult told him to scold the boy and tell him it wasn’t a toy, but his instinct as a soldier told him that the gun was being handled in a way that it wasn’t Epsilon’s first time with one in his hands. He already had the safety off.</p>
<p>Epsilon leaned back, tucking his head snuggly under Wash’s chin, before looking up just enough for their gazes to meet.</p>
<p>“Epsil-”</p>
<p>He tucked the gun under his own chin.</p>
<p>And pulled the trigger.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>‘There’s been an incident-’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Unfortunantly-’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘-happened?!’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘…injured- …. dead….’</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>When he awoke, his body felt incredibly heavy. None of his limbs would respond, and even his eyelids were weighed down. He tried to roll his eyes, as if metaphorically rolling off the shields so he could see. After some time, he succeeded in lifting the thin skin, only to regret it when the bright lights burned his vision. He managed to close his eyes again, and chose to slowly work the weight away, eventually getting just his left eye open. Above him was white; ceiling boards and fluorescent inset making it hard to focus. In the corner of his vision was a blurry shape, which slowly became clear as an IV bag.</p>
<p>So he was in hospital.</p>
<p>This realisation became clearer when he tried to swallow, but found there was something in his mouth, breaching his throat. His body convulsed as he tried to cough, but it failed to clear the obstacle. An insistent noise reached his ears as he became more aware, but it drew someone to his side.</p>
<p>“Oh dear.”</p>
<p>After a minute of struggling, his eyelids became heavy again, and he drifted off.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The next time he woke, he felt a bit more in control of his body. He successfully shifted his fingers and wiggled his toes, which brought the nurse over much quicker than before. She bustled around his bed, and he got his left eye open quicker this time, watching her placid expression as she adjusted the IV bag. The obstruction in his mouth was still there, so he tried not focus on the foreign feeling in hopes of being awake long enough to figure out what was going on.</p>
<p>“It’s good to see you awake.”</p>
<p>Another person stepped in beside the nurse, though they were too far away to focus on. From the deep voice and white coat, he could assume he was a doctor.</p>
<p>“Move your left fingers if you can hear and understand me.”</p>
<p>It took a few seconds for the message to go from his ears to his brain, and a few more to get the instruction down to his hand. The Doctor must have been okay with the delay.</p>
<p>“We’re going to remove the endotracheal tube so you can breathe on your own, okay? Move your left hand if you understand.”</p>
<p>He managed another twitch, and the Doctor moved closer, pulling at something sticky around his mouth. It didn’t pull at his skin as much as he expected. The Doctor moved to fiddle next to the bed.</p>
<p>“Take a deep breath, then exhale as deeply as comfortable, and we’ll pull the tube out.”</p>
<p>A hand came up to the tube and waited. He focused and did his best to follow the instructions. Inhale, exhale, don’t think about the bizarre feeling of something being pulled from your throat. When he felt the end of the pipe trail along his tongue he finally dared to cough and gasp, letting his lungs go back to work. Minutes passed, before he finally got his breathing even.</p>
<p>
  <em>‘I feel sick.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘My mouth feels disgusting.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Something… doesn’t feel right.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Your right… it feels very, very wrong.’</em>
</p>
<p>He wasn’t sure why he was having a conversation with himself, but he was feeling too much of the ‘<em>wrongness’</em> to pin it on only one thing. The creasing of his brow let his feel the bandage wrapped around his forehead, which shifted the one that came around the sides of his face to the point under his chin.</p>
<p>‘<em>What happened?’</em></p>
<p>‘<em>Injured. But how?’</em></p>
<p>The Doctor moved again, hovering over his face. He squinted up at him, finding his right-eye failing to properly focus, leaving the man split in two.</p>
<p>“How do you feel, Epsilon?”</p>
<p>‘<em>Epsilon? That not my name, my name is-’</em></p>
<p>
  <em>‘My name is-’</em>
</p>
<p>His name. What was his name? Which name belonged to him?</p>
<p>Epsilon? Washing<em>ton? Church? Dav<strong>id? LeonARD-?</strong></em></p>
<p>“That’s unfortunate.”</p>
<p>He barely heard the Doctors words over the sound of screaming. Where was it coming from?</p>
<p>There was a prick in his elbow, and the ache in his throat became less prevalent.</p>
<p>Oh. It was him screaming.</p>
<p>What was his name again?</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>‘There’s been an incident, where a gun has been accidentally discharged.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Unfortunately, this has resulted in harm, and means we will be changing our policies regarding open carry weapons.’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘What the hell happened?!’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘For your information, Epsilon was injured. Agent Washington is dead. We understand your connection to your fellow agent, but do not let your duties slip during your mourning.’</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>South swore for what could have easily been the fiftieth time that day. As sudo-military personnel, death was something to be expected eventually in their work, but from an <em>accidental discharge?</em> She couldn’t believe it. Sure everyone had joked about Washington’s quantity over quality skill set, but he wasn’t someone to neglect weapon maintenance or forget to put the safety on.</p>
<p>‘<em>And now. NOW of all times-’</em></p>
<p>Her data pad blinked with the new message on her assignment. She was to take over as caretaker for Epsilon. It had barely been three days since they’d been informed of Washington’s death, and they were already replacing him. Were these freak experimental children worth more to them than a trained solider?</p>
<p>She toppled over the nearest bin with a firm kick, just as her brother emerged from the locker room.</p>
<p>“South, you shouldn’t be damaging stuff that doesn’t belong to you.”</p>
<p>“Like I give a fuck.”</p>
<p>North sighed, gently placing a hand on his sister shoulder.</p>
<p>“Look, we’re all upset about what happened, but we still have work to do.”</p>
<p>“This is bullshit.”</p>
<p>South kicked the bin again and stormed off down the hall.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Agent South Dakota, Epsilon. Epsilon, this is your new caretaker.”</p>
<p>South didn’t bother to hide her resentment as she glared down at the boy. Epsilon had a mess of black hair that was only on the top of his head, everything below having been shaved to reveal a ring of stiches around his head. His skin was pale, save for the red tinge around the stitching, and under his chin where more scaring stretched out from a bandage. Having met Theta before she could kind of see a resemblance, but rather than a swirl of purple and red in his eyes, his left eye was bright blue while the right was steel grey.</p>
<p>The boy stood awkwardly, staring off into space. South barely offered a grunt of greeting, still glaring as the doctor shoved him forward. Finally returning from his thoughts, Epsilon shuffled forward before looking up at South Dakota.</p>
<p>Epsilon’s gaze was haunted, and it un-nerved South to no end.</p>
<p>It didn’t feel like the boy was looking at her, more that she was being looked <em>in to</em>. There was too much knowing swirling in his eyes, but South refused to back down first. Eventually he broke eye contact and began to walk from the room, South reluctantly trailing behind him.</p>
<p>“Your daily schedule will be uploaded to your data pad. Please attend appointments with punctuality.”</p>
<p>South flipped the Doctor off.</p>
<hr/>
<p>As South watched over Epsilon, she really felt more and more like a prison guard.</p>
<p>She’d meet Epsilon at his private room, then walk him to room after room for various tests, all while watching him like a hawk. She was under strict orders not to let him out of sight, no foot out of line lest he let himself be wrestled to the ground. So the boy walked, still with that haunted look in his eyes, and she watched, growing angrier by the day.</p>
<p>All the while, no one talked.</p>
<p>The Director never discussed the work, the scientists never explained their testing, and even talk between the agents had become brief and clipped. Pleasantries at mealtimes felt so forced it made her gag, but spending time with her charge was just as bad.</p>
<p>Watching Epsilon pace the recreation room yet again, South groaned and tapped foot.</p>
<p>“For fucks sake, either sit down or stop moving. You're getting on my nerves.”</p>
<p>The boy did stop, shifting his tired eyes to stare at her.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Can we trust her?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“She might be the only one we can talk to.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“But will she sell us out?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“…”</em>
</p>
<p>South moved to stand over Epsilon.</p>
<p>“Stop muttering, its creepy.”</p>
<p>His blue and grey eyes flicked as he looked over her face, searching. South didn’t back down from the scrutiny.</p>
<p>“South.”</p>
<p>“So you can talk.”</p>
<p>“We need help.”</p>
<p>She raised a brow.</p>
<p>“<em>’We’</em>?”</p>
<p>“Me- Us- Epsilon and Washington. We’re both in here South. They trapped us together, and they’ll do it to the others given the opportunity.”</p>
<p>Now South pulled back, looking at her charge like he’d grown another head. Which was kind of what he’d implied. That whole sentence was a disaster and sounded like the punchline to some horror story she’d told North, but-</p>
<p>“Prove it.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>She was working for some secret experimental military operation where they were forced to babysit children doing lab tests.</p>
<p>“Prove who you are.”</p>
<p>There were stranger things out there.</p>
<p>“…You punched York in the shoulder when he implied I’d work better with children. You said you were rooting for me to fail. I guess I did somehow, and here we are.”</p>
<p>“...Fuck.”</p>
<p>South had just realised she really had no idea what she’d signed up for.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I honestly don't remember where I was planning to go with this fic, past wanting to write South having to help Epsi-Wash save all the other clones and agents. I just want more leading character South damnit!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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